


Wires

by DumpsterDiving101



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 7 year age gap, Adopted Children, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Future, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Dubious Consent, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future, Future Fic, M/M, Marriage, Mildly Dubious Consent, Near Future, Testing - Freeform, Wires, age gap, dan and phil have an adopted daughter, test, the neighborhood, trigger warning, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-04
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-02-28 01:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13260303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DumpsterDiving101/pseuds/DumpsterDiving101
Summary: Arranged marriage au where you are paired with a partner based on a test, and commitment is more vital in the relationship than love is. The story of Dan’s arranged marriage to Phil Lester, a man seven years his superior who postponed taking the test to work in the military.Ebony is 17 years old and terrified to take the test and be arranged with someone. So it’s her father Dan’s duty to tell her the story of his marriage, from the initial fear and hatred that came with his obedience, to the feelings that followed.Inspired and named after the song ‘Wires’ by The Neighborhood.TW: mildly dubious consent, age gap (both 18+)





	1. Chapter 1

 Ebony had spent the past fifteen minutes crying on her father's shoulder, sobbing as he rubbed her back and gave her her time to get out all her fears and anguish onto his shirt. 

 Eventually, she stopped, just curled up against his chest. Ebony was seventeen, but she still cuddled as if she were a little kid who could fit on her father's lap with room to spare. Dan didn’t mind, not in the slightest.   
  
 "Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?" He asked after she had finished crying. Ebony was born with stark black hair, hence the name, but over the years it turned a dark brown, with thick curls that reached just above her shoulders.   
  
 She sniffled. "It’s... it’s the arranged marriage. I don’t know if I can go through with it."   
  
 Dan rubbed her back, nodding absently. "What about it?"   
  
 "Just... I don’t know. I understand that everything worked out with you and Dad, but... I just don’t know if that’s what’s right for me. What if I don’t like her?"  
  
 Dan smiled fondly. "You know, that’s just what I’d thought too. I didn’t know what I wanted but was sure there was no way the test could determine anything. And, actually, for a little while, I hated your dad."   
  
 Ebony sniffled. "Really?"   
  
 Dan nodded, thinking back to the days so many years ago when he’d first met Phil, and everything that went horribly wrong and everything that went horribly right.   
  
 "Could you tell me about it?"   
  
 "I’d be glad to."   
  
—-   
  
 When Dan had first met his future husband, Phil Lester, he was 17. Phil was 24.   
  
 Age gaps were seldom worth mentioning, all they meant was that one of the people in the relationship had chosen to postpone their marriage due to life choices. Phil had chosen to do so because of his role in the military. He was in charge of an important wing of the government that made decisions on foreign affairs, particularly preventing or encouraging wars. It was a job that demanded a lot of time and energy, and though Phil could have been married then, he’d had the option to postpone by filling out a few forms and checking the 'military' box. He was not allowed to postpone a marriage indefinitely, as all citizens were required to marry at some point. Marriages were a necessary part of society, though the terms of the marriage could be variable. If you were married, it did not mean you had to have sex past your wedding night. Commonly, marriages were just a formal way of determining a life partner. Romance was not always involved.   
  
 When Phil had resigned from his military job to a more common, low-stress government job, he’d been told to take the test to find him an adequate partner. Dan had been sixteen at the time and just taken the test for himself. They were matched, though they were not allowed to marry until Dan’s eighteenth birthday. When selected, Dan was 16 and Phil was 23.   
  
 Their parents had met already. Though the parents did not decide on the matches, they did have a large role in the weddings. Their society was largely test based; it valued data and studies; and it had strong familiar values.   
  
 When Dan and Phil had actually first met, they were not allowed to speak to one another. It was a few weeks before the wedding after many of the details had already been set up. Their parents planned the wedding. Their only job was to walk down the aisle, get hitched, act happy about it, and to consecrate the marriage in the privacy of their shared bedroom. They did not have to sleep with each other again after the first night, but no matter your orientation, you did have to sleep together on the first night. It was a rule-based around the study that showed that sex could improve commitment in a relationship.   
  
 The first day they’d seen each other, they sat across from each other in a living room, with Dan’s parents flanking on either side of him, and the same for Phil’s parents. Both of their parents had heterosexual relationships, though homosexual marriages were neither uncommon nor looked down upon. It all depended on the test.   
  
 Phil had confided in Dan years later his thoughts that day. He’d thought that his future husband looked very young, and wasn’t very comfortable with it.   
  
 Dan had thought something similar, except instead of thinking Phil looked too young, he’d thought Phil looked too mature. He had friends whose weddings he’d attended, and they usually looked about the same, both a little nervous, but both on the same page. He’d never met a couple his age with a seven-year age gap.   
  
 Phil leaned over and whispered to his mom. She cleared her throat. "He thinks you look very sweet."   
  
 Dan had leaned over, whispering to his father, "Tell him he looks handsome."   
  
 He’d gone home and cried. Because there was no way, absolutely no way, that this man, a full grown adult, could ever marry him and have them fall in love.   
  
 But Dan was obedient, and it wasn’t like he’d had much of a choice, so he went to his wedding. It was on his eighteenth birthday when he was proclaimed an adult. He wore the perfectly tailored suit and, as the younger of the pair, was walked down the aisle by his parents to meet Phil at the end, where he was already standing. Dan was younger, which was a disadvantage. Phil would be the superior in the marriage.   
  
 The official of the wedding read them the terms of the new marriage. It was the same script as everyone else’s so wedding officiants had the script memorized. Then, they were given the bracelets. Phil slid the clunky metal bracelet on Dan’s hand, and Dan repeated the action with the opposite. Then, once secured, the bracelets whirred quietly and printed the tattoos into their skin. Then, they removed the bracelets, throwing them away. On their once bare right wrists were new names, printed in cursive: 'Partner of Philip Lester' and 'Partner of Daniel Howell'. These tattoos stood in the place of what had once been rings. But rings were impractical; they could be taken off.   
  
 Then they were rushed to the banquet, where they sat next to each other and acted like a happy couple for their families and friends.   
  
 They sat at the head of the table, pieces of cake sitting in front of them. Dan picked up his fork and scooped up a bite, offering it to Phil, and then feeding it to him. Anyone watching cheered and called out well wishes, commenting on the lovely couple. Dan could feel Phil’s heart beating when he reached out, gripping his hand under the table. They were partners, and partners were for life.   
  
 They’d never spoken before the day of the wedding.   
  
 Finally, the night came to an end, and they were sent home. Houses were government issued, and all practically the same, but they were to live in what had been Phil’s house. It was still decorated with all his things, except now it also contained boxes with all of Dan’s things. Dan, with the small backpack that had been given to him by his best man- whom, of course, his parents had chosen for him- was lead upstairs to the master bathroom. There, he cried, until he finally managed to pull himself together and clean himself up. He took off his nice formal wear, and replaced it with the clothes from the bag; a pair of loose fitting boxer shorts. He brushed his teeth and put on deodorant from the bag, then pushed the door open, walking out with his hands crossed over his cold, bare chest defensively.   
  
 Phil was also in a similar type of shorts, though as the oldest and therefore the Superior of the relationship, he was also allowed a smooth cotton shirt. He sat on the bed, against his headboard when Dan came in.   
  
 The first thing he said: "You look beautiful."   
  
 Dan sniffled, trying to smile. He’d managed to smile convincingly all day, until that moment.   
  
 The second thing Phil said: "I’m sorry."  
  
 Dan laughed lightly, the type of sad laugh you do when it’s a better option than crying. He continued to stand by the open bathroom door, his arms crossed over his chest, his feet close together like he was trying to take up as little space as possible in the room.   
  
 He heard the bed creak as Phil stood. He heard the floor shift as he walked towards him, and caught his breath as Phil walked past him, turning off the bathroom light and closing the door.   
  
 Still he didn’t go to Dan, instead going to the radio on the side and pressing play on a song that was already loaded up. "It’s old," he admitted. "It’s by a band called 'The Neighborhood' in the early 2000's. It’s called 'Wires'. Tell me if you don’t like it. But... I’ve had it stuck in my head all week."   
  
 The song started playing. It wasn’t sweet or romantic like Dan had expected. Instead, it was almost dark. Dan tried to catch onto the lyrics, but it was the type of song where the vocals were almost as rhythmic as the instruments.   
  
 _We talked about making it  
I'm sorry that you never made it  
And it pains me just to hear you have to say it  
You knew the game and played it  
It kills to know that you have been defeated  
I see the wires pulling while you're breathing  
You knew you had a reason  
It killed you like diseases  
I can hear it in your voice while you're speaking you can't be treated  
Mr. Know it all had his reign and his fall  
At least that's what his brain is telling all_  
  
 Dan found himself closing his eyes, his arms still tight across his chest as he swayed lightly to the music, letting it run over him. There was a darkness and a sadness to it, definitely. But there was something else, a sort of sexuality behind it that he just couldn’t explain.   
  
 "Dan."   
  
 Dan opened his eyes to find Phil a few feet in front of him. He offered his hand. "In old weddings, the traditional sort, after the banquet everyone always danced. And the first dance was always for the newlyweds." He cleared his throat. "So um... may I have this dance?"   
  
 Dan stared at his hand for a moment, his eyes flickering between his hand and his eyes. Then, slowly, Dan uncrossed his arms, taking his hand.   
  
 Phil pulled him close slowly, like he was afraid to break the younger boy. Dan held Phil’s left hand with his right, and put his left hand on Phil’s shoulder, while Phil’s other hand found its place low on Dan’s waist. Higher would have been better, perhaps, if there was some sort of fabric covering it. But with only the silk boxers to cover himself, Dan actually preferred it like it was, instead of having Phil touch his bare waist.   
  
 The rocked back and forth slowly to the music. Dan had imagined his wedding night many times over but had never pictured slow dancing to old, slightly dark music.   
  
 Dan closed his eyes once more as the chorus came on, still rocking back and forth in Phil’s arms.   
  
 _If he said help me kill the president  
I'd say he needs medicine  
Sick of screaming let us in  
The wires got the best of him  
All that he invested in goes   
Straight to Hell, straight to hell,  
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa,  
Straight to Hell, straight to Hell,  
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa._  
  
 He found himself moving a little closer to his husband, finally resting his head on his chest as they danced slowly. Phil moved his hand from his waist, instead placing it on his back, rubbing it experimentally.   
  
 "We don’t have to do anything," Phil whispered.   
  
 Dan was so entranced by the music that he’d almost forgotten what was happening. Or rather, what was supposed to be happening. "I didn’t think we had a choice."   
  
 "We're supposed to... you know. But we don’t have to. If you don’t want to, we won’t." He pressed a small kiss to the top of Dan’s head, trying out that physical affection he was supposed to be already using and comfortable with. After all, they were married. Dan wasn’t necessarily supposed to protest any of Phil’s actions.   
  
 Dan hummed against Phil’s chest, his eyes still closed. For the moment, he ignored the proposition at hand. "You’ve had this song stuck in your head all week? Why?"   
  
 "I don’t know," he answered honestly. "I used to listen to it a lot. I got it for my birthday when I was seventeen..." he didn’t finish the sentence.  _When I was seventeen, only a year younger than you are now._  "A friend of mine made this mixtape for me of a bunch of old songs like this that he thought I’d like."   
  
 Dan’s eyes were open now, he cheek pressed against Phil’s clothed chest as they swayed. "He sounds like a good friend. Was he at the wedding?"   
  
 "No. He died a few months later. After that, I decided to get a military job. I didn’t really want to let anyone else into my life after him." He paused briefly, then pressed another kiss to the top of Dan’s head, as if reminding himself that he was there. "But I suppose it worked out. Now I’m here with you." The words were a little forced, a little truthful. He seemed to be trying to convince himself that this marriage was a good thing, something that would truly benefit the both of them. Which was more than Dan was doing. Dan wondered what Phil had been doing when he was crying in the bathroom. Was he thinking about his friend, wondering if he’d made the right choice?  
  
 "I wish I’d known," Dan whispered, just loud enough to hear over the music. "About your friend. I wish I’d already known you before the wedding. This could have been such a nice day."   
  
 Phil hummed in agreement. "I don’t think that it was all that bad. You really are beautiful, Dan, I wasn’t lying when I told you that. I just... wish I could compliment you on something else. I know what you mean; I wish I was already in love with your personality."   
  
 Dan hummed in response. He knew he was probably doing that too much, but it was just what felt right.   
  
 The music stopped, and so did they. Dan inhaled Phil’s scent slowly, something he couldn’t quite place but that was utterly lovely and calming. "Could you... could you turn the song back on?"   
  
 "You liked it?" Phil’s voice was soft and low, very relaxed.  
  
 "Yeah. A... a lot. I suppose that’s one good thing that can come from this marriage. I’ll be able to listen to your music."   
  
 Phil laughed lightly as he walked to the radio to play the song again. It was the first time Dan had made him laugh.   
  
 The song began playing again, that relaxing, mysterious, dark and slightly romantic drawl. Phil came back over to Dan, standing before him and reaching out, touching him with an air of what was almost familiarity. Something that had the potential of familiarity, perhaps.   
  
 Dan looked up, and his eyes caught Phil’s. He had very beautiful eyes, Dan decided. This could be someone he fell in love with.   
  
 "Thank you," Dan started quietly, still staring up at Phil’s eyes, unable to break away. "Thank you for giving me the option. It... it means a lot to me. Could we, erm, could we kiss?"   
  
 Phil nodded, and Dan leaned up, having to tilt his head upwards and stand a little taller in order to reach Phil’s lips. And they kissed, slowly, testing the waters. Neither had kissed anyone before. It was strongly discouraged in their society- such romantic actions could lead to romantic feelings. You did not touch someone in that way until after you'd married.  
  
 They kissed for a few long moments, and every time Dan thought that he was going to pull away, he found himself unable to stop. The kissing was sweet and warm. There was simply no other way to describe it.   
  
 Finally, Dan felt himself stilling, and slowly rested his weight back on the heels of his feet. Phil stopped as soon as he realized Dan was pulling back, and he sighed a little wistfully, containing himself.   
  
 "Like I’d said," Dan said, stumbling over his words. "I- I appreciate that you asked for my consent, and said that we didn’t have to, but um, if it’s okay with you, I think we probably should. I might- I might be wrong, but I think I might actually enjoy.... um.... sleeping with you, if that’s okay. If you want to."   
  
 Phil answered with a small smile and another kiss, pulling Dan in. This kiss, their second kiss, felt more natural, and admittedly, more like a precept to something more important. "Okay, Dan," Phil said, the name still unfamiliar on his tongue. "Tell me if I need to stop. Or slow down. Or anything. I promise I will."   
  
 He didn’t have to play the music, didn’t have to make Dan comfortable with the situation. He could have had his way with Dan, whatever way that looked like, and no one would question it. But instead, he gave Dan the choice, even when he himself had little choice. And that in itself was the best thing he could have done.  
  
 "Okay," Dan was saying, and his eyes were closed again and his hands were on Phil's hips, finding the hem of his shirt. "Okay. Okay." He pulled it up and over Phil’s head with a little help from his husband, discarding it on the floor a few feet away. He found himself in the middle of another kiss, this one even better than the ones before it. Phil turned him around and walked him backward, towards the bed, without ever breaking the kiss. Ever so gently, Dan was pushed onto the bed so he was sitting, and Phil pushed his legs apart so he could stand between them, still kissing him.   
  
 Dan could feel his heart pound against his chest. His hands trembled on Phil’s shoulders, and he tried to catch his breath and return the kisses at the same time. He could feel panic well up in his throat.  
  
 "Tell me if I need to stop," Phil whispered. "I promise I will."   
  
 "Okay." Dan liked the kissing, but he didn’t want to take a single step further. But he had to. He had to, it was his job, just this one night and then they never had to do it again. If they just got it over with, then they could go to bed and the day would be over. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dan didn’t tell all of that information to Ebony. She didn’t have to know the details, how it felt to kiss Phil for the first time, how Dan’s hands shook and how he could hardly breathe until it was done. He summarized the story for her, emphasizing the main points: Phil was loving and romantic, he himself was scared out of his wit, and he was balancing on the tightrope between accepting his new life and refusing Phil. 

* * *

 

 He stopped the story there, telling Ebony he would tell her more later, but now it was time for bed.   
  
 The next day, they were sitting at the table with lunch in between them, Phil off running errands, when Ebony brought it up again and asked Dan to continue the story.  
  
———————-  
  
  
 The morning after the wedding night, Dan woke up a long time before Phil did. He adjusted the sheets, pulling them up to his waist, and laid back down, sighing.   
  
 Dan stretched out but stopped when he saw the mark on his wrist. The tattoo spelling out 'Partner of Philip Lester' in sprawling cursive, legible enough that anyone could see it and know who Dan’s partner was.   
  
 Phil was laying on his side of the bed, with his left hand resting on his stomach, still asleep. As tender as he could, Dan moved his arm to lay flat so he could see the tattoo: 'Partner of Daniel Howell'. Above the words was a thin black line. On Dan’s wrist, the line was beneath the words, a symbol of their roles in the relationship. Phil was the Superior. They were equals, except for when they weren’t.   
  
 Phil stirred, and Dan rolled to his side, hiding his tattooed wrist from sight. "Morning, Dan."  
  
 "Good morning," Dan replied, too quiet and too awkward.  
  
 "I’m going to take a shower. Unless you want to first?"  
  
 "No, you can. I’m just going to get dressed."  
  
 "Okay. I know your boxes are downstairs, so you can just use my clothes if you want. Boxers are in the top drawer, shorts in the middle, and T-shirts in the closet."  
  
 Dan didn’t reply as he heard Phil sit up, then walk around the bed to the bathroom. He averted his eyes to avoid looking at his husband's naked form.  
  
 After Phil had gone into the bathroom, Dan hurried up, peeking in Phil's dresser drawers before hurrying downstairs, digging through his boxes until he found his clothes and quickly put them on. He used the powder room toilet, aggressively fixing his hair and pulling down his jumper sleeves to cover the newly acquired tattoo on his wrist.   
  
 He went to Phil's kitchen- his kitchen now, he supposed, though he had to dig through all the cabinets and couldn’t find where a single thing was so it certainly didn’t  _feel_ like his kitchen- and clumsily choose out a cereal, pouring it in a bowl.   
  
 "Hey, Dan."   
  
 "I found the cereal."   
  
 Phil gave him a strange look as he walked to the fridge. "I see you found your own clothes."  
   
 "Yeah. I’m, erm, more comfortable this way."  
  
 "Okay."  
  
 "Kay."  
  
 Phil retrieved the orange juice and walked the long way around the counter in the middle of the kitchen to get to the cabinet that held the glasses. Dan skirted around the opposite way, grabbing a paper towel. He watched as Phil came back his way, and quickly skirted back around to his bowl of cereal.   
  
 Phil looked at him unsurely, before going back- the long way, again, so he didn’t have to pass Dan- and putting the orange juice away.   
  
 As he went back to grab some of the cereal, Dan went back around, getting the orange juice again.   
  
 "You could’ve told me if you wanted some."   
  
 "I’m fine!" Dan squeaked.   
  
 He retraced his steps back to the cabinet, but Phil beat him to it. Dan bumped into his chest, freezing and staring up at him with wide eyes.   
  
 "I was guessing you wanted a cup to go with that orange juice?" Phil offered, reaching up and grabbing him a juice glass. Dan accepted it, not moving away yet.   
  
 Dan licked his lips. "I don’t drink coffee. I like anime. And I’m afraid of the dark. In case you were wondering what your husband is like."   
  
 "Good to know. Was last night that bad for you?"  
  
 "You weren’t that bad."  
  
 "I was talking about the dark."   
  
 Dan felt his face flush and backed up until he hit the kitchen counter lightly, scooting up to sit on it. "I can sleep in the dark, I just don’t like it."   
  
 "So we don’t have to get you a nightlight?" Phil teased.   
  
 "I’m not a baby."   
  
 "You’re barely eighteen."   
  
 Dan bit his lip, holding back his comeback. "I didn’t choose you," he reminded Phil. "It’s not my fault you’re old."  
   
 "I’m not old."  
  
 "You’re 24."  
  
 "25. My birthday is the 30th of January."  
  
 "You’re old," Dan repeated.   
  
 Phil shook his head. "It’s too early for this. You still don’t drink coffee?"   
  
 "Nothings changed in the past minute."  
  
 Phil’s shrugged, and retrieved the milk from the fridge, placing it by the cereal on the counter. He walked up to Dan until their legs were almost touching, reaching and opening the cabinet behind him. Dan tucked his head in, almost touching Phil’s chest as he retrieved a bowl, and closed the cabinet behind him.   
  
 "You’re cuter when you’re not insulting me," Phil whispered, smiling slightly arrogantly. "Let’s try this again, shall we? Morning, Sweetie." He kissed Dan’s forehead, then turned and walked away so he didn’t see Dan’s reaction.   
  
 "Sweetie?"  
  
 "You like it? I was thinking we should have nicknames for each other, since we're married and all."   
  
 "I hate it."  
  
 "Okay, Sweetie is out then. See? I can be agreeable when I try." Phil hesitated, then smiled. " _Honey._ "  
  
 "Honey's worse."   
  
————————  
  
 The rest of the day was spent doing other romantic, husbandy stuff: such as unpacking Dan’s things, unenthusiastically sharing opinions on what trinkets should be kept on their nightstand, and Phil begrudgingly giving up two of his drawers so that Dan could put his folded clothes away. He also moved all of his shirts over to the right of the closet so Dan could hang his up.   
  
 "You're emo," he realized once he saw the large variety of colors Dan was sporting: almost solely black.   
  
 "I’m not emo.... anymore."   
  
 That night, Phil was watching tv when Dan climbed over the couch to sit next to him. The couch wasn’t big- Phil rarely had many people over, so it was hardly a love seat- so Dan ended up sitting moderately close to his husband, about the distance he’d sit from a friend. His hair was extra curly and wet from his shower.   
  
 "I’m watching Food Wars," Phil explained, shifting a little. "It’s this anime about-"  
  
 "I know what Food Wars is." Dan’s tone, for once, wasn’t condescending or arguable, just like he was stating a fact. "It’s one of my favorites. I like that they orgasm every time they eat a bite of really good food."  
  
 Phil's jaw dropped. "They do not!"  
  
 "They do!" Dan was smiling and nodding, like he was telling dirty secrets to a child. "What else do you think that music means? Watch, you’ll see."  
  
 They waited, watching the show until the next plate came out, some sort of cake that was garnished and dressed to perfection. They both tensed as the character bit into it, and immediately the music flourished. The character shot up into the air, smiling with glee and spinning around magically.  
  
 "See? That was an orgasm."  
  
 "I’m... I’m never watching this show again. It’s ruined."   
  
 "Oh, stop being so dramatic."   
  
 They both let their attention drift back to the television, continuing to watch the show. Dan wiggled against the couch, trying to get comfortable. Finally, he sighed, and scooted next to Phil, resting his head on his shoulder.   
  
 "Your hair is still all wet," Phil observed, combing his fingers through it. After he decided it was detangled enough, he found his hand drifting to going around the younger boy's shoulder.   
  
 "Don’t think this means I like you."   
  
 "We’re married, why in the world would you like me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr dedicated purely to writing phanfiction [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/). You can also request a phanfic [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/ask). Please comment and tell me what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

The first week was spent stepping around each other, trying to get familiar with one another’s patterns and tendencies. Dan, for instance, liked to sleep in. By the time he’d woken up and showered, it was already approaching lunchtime. Then, he stayed up late, even later than Phil.   
  
 Regardless, they were learning how to coexist.   
  
 They’d been officially married for a full week when Phil roused Dan, gently shaking him awake. "Dan, wake up. Come on, we have to get ready."   
  
 He rolled over, groaning. "Eat breakfast without me, let me sleep."   
  
 Phil took the covers and yanked them backward, ignoring how Dan winced and curled into a ball. "The inspection is today. We have to clean the house and get ready."   
  
 "Do I have to shower?" Dan complained in a low mumble, his eyes still closed against the sheets.   
  
 Phil leaned over on the bed, giving his hair a long sniff. "Nah, you’re good. But you have to get up now." Dan rolled over, still complaining. His arm flopped over, and Phil bit his lip. "Your tattoo."   
  
 Dan quickly brought his arm over his chest, cradling it protectively. "It isn’t because of you, you’re fine. I just... don’t like to be marked like that."   
  
 Phil climbed onto the bed, kneeling next to Dan, who was significantly more awake now. "Can I see?"   
  
 Dan sighed in defeat and sat up, showing his inner wrist to his husband. His tattoo was significantly lighter than it had been before, the surrounding skin slightly pinker. Phil brushed his thumb along it.   
  
 "I scrubbed it," he explained. "I promise, it's not because of you or anything."  
  
 "It’s fine," Phil decided, still looking a little offended. "Except the inspector will probably want to see it."  
  
 "I’ll figure it out," Dan promised. "Let’s just... get ready."  
  
 ——-   
  
 The spent the rest of the morning skirting around each other, as normal. They had cleaned the house and were just finished getting ready when the doorbell rung.   
  
 They met the inspector and shook hands, sitting down on the loveseat, which had been turned to face the kitchen. The inspector sat across from them, writing down notes on her clipboard.   
  
 Phil sat on the couch normally, but Dan sat down so close they were physically touching, glancing over at his husband every so often and smiling like a fool in love. Phil, noticing his actions, reached over and intertwined their hands.   
  
 She asked them how they thought the match was, how the first week was, what they thought of each other. Dan acted shy and flustered, just as he did the first time Phil met him. The only difference was that this time, Phil realized it was an act.   
  
 The purpose of the inspection was to see if the pairing seemed correct, and check to make sure the couple was acting appropriately. It also included some other things, such as making sure the house was in order and that their tattoos were as they were supposed to be. Phil caught his breath as Dan reached out his hand, showing her his inner wrist to inspect.   
  
 "Good," she muttered, scribbling some notes. "The ink reacts differently for everyone, so the pink should fade with time. Obviously, yours is a little darker than your husband's, which is abnormal because of his lighter skin pigment, but not uncommon.”  
  
 They got an A on the inspection, and Dan smiled and clung to Phil’s arm as they said goodbye to the inspector. He turned and pecked Phil on the lips, then moved out of the way so he could close the door.   
  
 As soon as they were out of sight, Dan let go of Phil’s hand, his adoring smile dropping as he moved away.   
  
 "That was... convincing." Phil looked a little shaken by the sudden change. He reached up hesitantly, wiping his mouth from the kiss.   
  
 Dan shrugged as he went to the kitchen, turning on the faucet and beginning to scrub his wrist. He scrubbed a little harder, clearly getting frustrated.   
  
 Phil walked over, watching him try to scrub the tattoo away desperately. "You’re scrubbing too hard. And you need to use soap. Dan... Dan, stop. Hey!" He grabbed Dan’s wrists, yanking them out. "Hey, stop it. Look at me."   
  
 Dan tried to yank his hands away, but Phil’s grip was too tight. He squeezed, pulling his hands closer so Dan had no choice but to look at him.   
  
 "You’re hurting yourself." Phil turned off the tap, still holding onto one of Dan’s wrists, keeping him from pulling away.   
  
 "It isn’t about you," Dan insisted. "I just don’t like having this mark, I don’t want to be branded like this-!"  
  
 "Dan, stop talking."   
  
 Dan shut up immediately, his mouth still open as if he had more to say, but it wouldn’t come out. He closed his mouth, wetting his lips uncertainly.   
  
 Phil squeezed Dan’s wrist, his hands a little shaky. "I don’t care about the damned tattoo, if you scrub it or if you leave it alone. How’d you make it darker again?"   
  
 Dan looked like he wanted to pull away. "Marker."  
  
 "Okay. I’m guessing it wasn’t washable?"  
  
 "I used a sharpie."   
  
 "Okay. Let’s try to wash it off, preferably without rubbing your skin raw."   
  
 Dan still looked hesitant, but he didn’t complain as Phil dragged him by his wrist up their stairs to their shared bathroom. He let go, gently shoving him towards the counter. "Sit."  
  
 "Don't tell me what to do," Dan mumbled, like he didn’t want Phil to hear him. Probably because then Phil could tell him exactly why he  _could_  tell him what to do.   
  
 Dan sat, and Phil turned on the faucet, filling up the sink with warm water and swirling some soap into it. He dipped a washcloth in the mixture, taking Dan’s wrist and rubbing it gently with the washcloth. "I’m not your enemy," he muttered. "We’re partners. And I’m not okay with acting all lovey-dovey in front of people if you’re going to reject me when we’re alone."  
  
 "It’s all an act." Dan's voice is quieter, and even he can hear how young he seems, the age gap between the two reminded once more. "That’s all marriages are. You play dress up and you fuck and then you act happy around each other and then just deal with each other when you’re alone. And if you think love’s involved, you’re wrong. It’s all one big game of pretend."  
  
 Phil kept rubbing the ink off, dipping the washcloth into the soapy water again.   
  
 "The Test isn’t made to create soulmates. It’s meant to pair two people together who can be quiet and content and play the fucking game."   
  
 "Language."   
  
 "I’m not five!" Dan announced shrilly.   
  
 "No, you’re eighteen, complaining and making yourself miserable! And don't cuss, it makes you sound like a teenager and I thought that I married an adult."   
  
 Dan scowled. "Shut up."   
  
 Phil dumped the washcloth in the water. Dan winced as a few suds landed on his cheek. "We’re stuck with each other."  
  
 "Shut up."   
  
 "The Test put us together."  
  
 "Shut up."  
  
 "So that means that we're going to be together for a long time. Unless you want to stab me in my sleep-"  
  
 "You could stab me. You don’t even have to wait until I’m asleep, you could stab me right now-"  
  
 "We’re married." Phil started wiping away the ink again, holding Dan’s wrist still as he worked. "And all those things you said about dealing with each other, they’re wrong. And I don’t want any of that. If we’re going to be together, then I don’t want to have to act when we’re in public."  
  
 He lifted up the washcloth, observing the tattoo. It was the lighter color again, just as it was this morning. "Partner Of Philip Lester" was still easy to see, just faded.   
  
 His legs brushed against Dan’s, hanging off of the counter. He let go of Dan’s hands, leaning forwards with one hand on each side of his legs. "Give me an answer. Because I’m not interested in faking it."   
  
 "Well too bad, because faking it is all I’m good at."  
  
 "Then fake it around other people. Be real around me."   
  
 "I hardly know you."   
  
 Phil moved away, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "You can’t keep saying that! I get it, you didn’t want me. But you have me now, we’re stuck with each other. Let’s come up with some kind of agreement, okay? We can at least coexist with each other." Dan crossed his arms, not saying anything. "Fine, I’ll start. I’d like it if you wore socks to bed. Your feet are always freezing and I don’t like getting jump-scared in the middle of the night by them."  
  
 Dan sucked in his bottom lip. "Fine. Then I want to hide my tattoo. I hate it."   
  
 "How will you hide it?"  
  
 "I could get a watch?" Dan offered. "Or some sort of bracelet or cuff or something. Until I get one though, I want to cover it with a band-aid."   
  
 "It really annoys you that much?"  
  
 He nodded.   
  
 "It’s your body," Phil decided. "If you want to."  
  
 Dan flushed. "Thank you. Do you, erm, do you have any other things?"  
  
 "I liked cuddling with you," he admitted. "And I'd like to continue. We can do it platonically."  
  
 "Couch cuddling or bed cuddling?"  
  
 "Both. And anywhere else we find ourselves cuddling."   
  
 "You’re so needy."   
  
 "It can be platonic," Phil repeated. "If you want."  
  
 Dan stared at his feet. "We’re married. There’s no point in making things platonic, it’s too late for that."  
  
 Phil nodded in agreement.   
  
 "We can cuddle."  
  
 "And I also liked kissing."  
  
 "You already had your turn," Dan reminded him. "It’s my turn to add something."  
  
 "I was thinking this could be your thing." Phil's voice was softer now, lower. He walked back to where Dan sat on the bathroom counter and parted his legs so he could stand in between them, leaning over to kiss his neck gently. "I think you like them even more than I do."  
  
 Dan didn’t protest, actually rocking against him slowly, like he was still holding himself back. Phil kissed up his neck and across his cheek, stopping just before he got to his lips. "You like it," he repeated. "You want me to do it more."   
  
 Dan breathed in a shaky breath, fluttering his eyes closed. He moved forward a little, not allowing himself to move all the way in to touch Phil’s lips. But he didn’t have to. Phil, with one hand on the back of Dan’s hair and the other under his jaw, pushed forwards, so their lips touched and Dan could hardly stay sat up as they kissed. They were equally inexperienced, but it wasn’t something that you had to learn. Their bodies took over, primal instincts to be as close as humanly possibly taking over until they were firmly pressed against each other, both kissing with equal vigor. Dan's face was tilted upwards to meet Phil’s, exchanging long open-mouthed kisses that dissolved into each other with his eyes screwed shut.   
  
 "You love it," Phil whispered, his eyes still closed and his hand still on the back of Dan’s neck, pushing him impossibly closer.  
  
 "I hate it," Dan retorted, though he kept kissing Phil almost hungrily. "Move your hand, I also hate people touching my neck."   
  
 Phil pulled apart, moving back down to Dan's neck and choosing a spot to suck, taking his panting as a good sign. "You hate this?"  
  
 Dan moaned, his eyes staying closed. "I hate it," he whispered breathily. "And I hate kisses. And I hate you." He grabbed Phil's shirt collar, pulling him back up and pushing their lips together with such force that Phil almost had to take a step back.   
  
 "You’re a horrible liar."   
  
 "You’re jump-scared by cold feet."  
  
 "You’re insufferable."  
  
 "You act like an old man."  
  
 "You’re still a baby."   
  
 "I fucking hate you."   
  
 "I don’t not like you."   
  
 Dan pulled apart, just enough to slap Phil across the face. He didn’t even flinch, instead pulling him off of the counter and causing them to both topple to the floor, with Dan on top. He connected their lips once more, kissing Phil’s desperately.  
  
 "I hate you. I hate you so much," Dan was saying as he fumbled with his belt, undoing it and unbuckling his trousers. "Fuck you."  
  
 "I want that to be my last one. That you can’t tell me you hate me, I don’t like it."  
  
 "Goddamnit Phil, it’s not your turn!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out my tumblr dedicated purely to writing phanfiction [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/). You can also request a phanfic [here](https://dansphlevels.tumblr.com/ask). Please comment and tell me what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chaptered Thursday!

_Six Months Later_

 They walked along, intertwined hands swinging between them. It was a sunny day so they both wore sunglasses, making their way down to the grocery store to buy some food for their dinner that night. Dan’s parents, who’d moved soon after the wedding, were coming to see them and visit. And likely judge the marriage, look for bruises and complain about how they’d chosen to decorate the place.

* * *

 

 They looked straight ahead, walking the way they always went. Of course, they could divide and conquer- one could clean the house, one could grocery shop- but it was less boring this way.

 Over the past few months, they’d spent more time figuring out how to coexist in the relationship. They both liked anime, they both liked cuddling, and that was enough to found most of their relationship on. They were friends; they were fuck buddies; they were roommates.

 There was only one television in the house. That meant that as they both liked watching tv before bed, they had to compromise on what movie or show to watch. Phil liked coffee in the morning, and Dan liked to have long showers, so Phil would shower while Dan put the coffee on, then he’d finish and Dan would go to take a shower. Phil had to go to work earlier, so Dan would always come down the stairs in his towel or slightly damp clothes, depending on how long his shower was, and say goodbye. Sometimes they’d smile. Sometimes they’d exchange little waves. Sometimes, if Dan was especially tired and Phil was especially content, he’d press a small kiss onto his husband's forehead, letting him go with a playful shove. "I’ll see you later."

 "Yeah, whatever," Dan sometimes said, but he only ever said it with a smile that answered for him: _I’ll be here_.

 Kisses were only things you did when there was passion, and only when that passion was lust. Dan knew something was wrong when he started wanting kisses every day. He liked the little pecks and the slow short kisses maybe more than he should’ve.

 Phil would tease him over a bowl of cereal and coffee, and Dan would reply with "I hate you." As time passed, it began progressively less convincing.

 A tickle fight, on the living room carpet. "Get off of me, you wet turnip!" Dan squealed, laughing and play fighting back.

 "You love me," Phil teased, ticking his sides.

 Dan squealed. "No! I hate you!" He rolled Phil over and tickled under his armpits, making him squawk.

 "You love meee..." Phil teased, grinning through the painful tickles. He shoved Dan to the side and tumbled on top of his, with his elbows pressing against the floor on either side of his head. "I think you love me."

 Dan was radiant, his joy almost giving off a glow. "I most certainly do not," he insisted, his voice going a little deeper, becoming a bit posher.

 They both caught their breath like that, staring up at each other.

 Fuck buddies. Date mates. Roomies. Friends. Neither of them had many friends.

 Phil got sick with a bad cold and Dan went out and got him the medicine, handing him the pills and insisting that it was a placebo effect and that Phil was just as likely to be healed if Dan gave him a normal multivitamin.

 "I’ll take it," Phil decided, his voice rough. "I’m ready for this cold to be over."

 His fringe was messy, and Dan knew how much Phil hated fringe gaps, so it was only right Dan fix it for him. "Yeah, well don’t get me sick."

 Roommates. Fuck buddies. Best friends.

 They walked hand in hand to the grocery store, both wearing sunglasses and looking straight ahead.

 In the store, Phil inspected the oranges, trying to find the best ones. Dan was looking somewhere else.

 "Hey, Phil?"

 "Hmm?"

 "I want to be a dad."

 Roommates, fuck buddies, best friends, _husbands_.


	5. Chapter 5

 Ebony was born three weeks early and when they got the call, Phil and Dan were told that they should come and see her before she dies.

* * *

 

  But she didn't die. She lived and her lungs didn't work quite right but she survived and her heart was too small but it was still pumping, somehow. Dan and Phil were told not to get too attached. They were told not to get too attached for five weeks. Then they were told they could take her home.

  Ebony was a strange baby. She had a bad eye and various problems with her organs from being born so prematurely. They had her at home for two days before she started wheezing and they brought her back to the hospital, where they were told the same thing again: don't get too attached. But by then it was too late.

  Phil loved Ebony. He was a proud Dad, the type that took way too many pictures and wanted to show everyone he met his little girl, tubes, ventilators and all.

  But Dan... Dan was on a different level. They decided Dan would be Father because it was the more formal, powerful name, and it evened over some of the inequality of Phil being the superior in the match.

  Dan spent as much time as possible with Ebony. He held her, he rocked her, and sometimes after she had surgery or was sick again, he just sat by her tiny crib, reading out loud.

  Eventually, she got to a healthy size and was no longer dependent on any machines to keep her alive. Ebony was a real baby, with the real baby smell and real baby chub and real baby eyes that looks at everything as it was something. Her bad eye wasn't always quiet there, which worried Phil, but Dan just found endearing. She could have a third arm or two mouths and Dan would still just find it endearing.

  Ebony was two when it happened. She ended up getting surgery on her bad eye, and Dan and Phil were waiting in the sitting area of the hospital, just waiting for it to be done. This procedure was harder than the others because now, Ebony was a real person, who could say short phrases and express herself outwardly. Bringing a baby to have surgery was like bringing your puppy- you love them, and you worry, but you don't really know what they feel. Bringing a two-year-old was like bringing a tiny person you took care of and telling them it was for the best even though the worst could always happen.

  Dan and Phil bounced the worry ball back and forth until they gave up and tried to distract themselves. Finally, Dan leaned heavily on Phil, muttering about how he was going to take a nap. He was already half asleep when Phil kissed the top of his head, whispering "I love you."

  They did everything out of order, it seemed. They got married, then became friends, then had a daughter, and then said the first "I love you"s.

\-----

  When Ebony took the entrance test to get into middle school, she was filed into the middle category. "It's not fair!" She insisted. "Ellie and Andy are both in the advanced class! Dad, why can't I just go with them? I'll try extra hard to keep up with them!"

  Phil glanced over to Dan, who was chopping vegetables for dinner. He wore a watch on his wrist to cover the faded 'Partner of Philip Lester' tattoo. "I'm sorry Sweetie. But you have to trust the test."

  "The test is stupid! Maybe I don't want to be a... a freaking robot like you two!" Ebony stormed out of the kitchen, and Dan and Phil exchanged a look.

\------------

  Ebony excelled in her average middle school and made friends quickly. The test was right.

  But that didn't mean it was fair.

  Near the end of her eighth grade, Ebony took the test that would determine her high school, and to her despair, she was placed in the more advanced one.

  "I'm proud of you," Phil told his mashed potatoes as they sat at dinner that night. "You've worked really hard."

  Ebony had long stopped arguing about the tests- which weren't going to change anytime soon- and instead had resigned herself to moping. "I should have tried to get more of the answers wrong."

  "You're smart," Dan argued. "You deserve to be in the place where you'll learn the most."

  "And then I can take a test and find out what job I'll get. And then I can take a test to decide who I'll marry. Is there a test that determines when I'm allowed to die too?"

  They exchanged a look. "Ebony-"

  "I'm fine," she snapped. "I'm just losing all of my friends and being put in a school with a bunch of snobs. I'll get over it."

  "It's for your best-"

  "How would they know?" She argued. "Whoever makes the tests. How the hell would they know what's best for me?

\----------------

  "I'm terrified," Ebony admitted. She was curled up on Dan's lap like she was five years old again, except she wasn't. She was almost 18.

  Dan rubbed her back, his mind back somewhere 17 years back when he and his assigned partner sat on the floor of their apartment eating ice cream in their pajamas.

  "What if I don't like her?"

  "I don't know," Dan hummed. "She seems like a nice girl."

  "What? You met her, why didn't you tell me?"

  Dan smiled to himself. "She's two months younger than you, which gives you some extra time. And we've already been in contact with her parents, planning everything."

  Ebony sighed. Dan knew what she wanted to ask, but he knew why she didn't ask. He wasn't about to tell her.

  "Can we listen to some of Dad's old stuff? Does he still have them?"

  She scooted off of Dan's lap, letting him get up. "I think so, I'll check."

\--------------

  "Do you ever worry about her?" Phil breathed out.

  Dan was leaning on his shoulder, a small smile playing on his lips. His breath tasted like wine and Phil's tux smelled like fireplace. "Do I ever not worry about her?" He teased.

  A familiar song played in the background.  _And it pains me just to hear you had to say it. You knew the game and played it. It kills to know that you have been defeated. I see the wires pulling while you're breathing..._

  On their wedding night, it sounded dark. Now it sounded hopeful. There was a battle ahead, and the song didn't sing of an enemy, it sung of a friend.

  One of the couples on the dance floor stepped away, giving them a clear view to the couple dancing directly in the center. Honey brown hair falling down shoulders and a soft pink dress, and mahogany brown locks pinned in a fancy bun with a dress made out of sheer black. No, not black: ebony.

  They were both smiling. Not with joy, but with a secretive excitement, anticipation. Ebony leaned over, whispering something to her bride, who giggled.

  "I think they'll be just fine," Dan decided. He intertwined his hand with Phils, snuggling a little closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this story! I post most of my phanfiction on my tumblr @DansPHLevels if you want to read more, along with some of my stories on my ao3 account (which you know how to get to so whats the point linking it). I'm currently working on a chaptered fic that it updated every Monday and Thursday called "But Who Was It For Anyways", the sequel to my story "But Love Was Overrated Anyways". That story is a dystopian au where Dan and Phil are mutants with powers in a world thats turned their backs on them. It has a lot of elements of science fiction, action, and moral issues, so if that interests you, I'd suggest you check it out! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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